


Human Frailty

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-31 18:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sherlock, I’m not in the mood tonight, alright? I really can’t handle hearing yet another explanation of how I’m an idiot whose opinion is utterly useless.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Frailty

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom is eating my brain, even though I have so many _Merlin_ projects, as well as assignments I should be working on. There's no reference to anything from season two, because I'm from Texas, and therefore have not seen it yet.

John moves to grab his jacket and Sherlock nimbly intercepts him. “Sherlock, I’m not in the mood tonight, alright? I really can’t handle hearing yet another explanation of how I’m an idiot whose opinion is utterly useless.”

Sherlock calculates the probability that his flat-mate – friend, John is first, and foremost, his friend – will storm off to the pub to nurse his sore feelings away from their provocateur and steels himself to do something which he would not condescend to do for anyone else. The difference, he knows, is that with John, it is never truly a condescension. He wants to be able to share his feelings with his friend, as strange and bewildering as that fact may be.

“You’re wrong.”

John sighs and closes his eyes, his features falling into a frequently-used ‘why me?’ expression. “Of course I am. Because I’m always wrong, aren’t I? My deductions always fall short of the mark.”

“In this case, the fault does not lie with your deductive abilities. You cannot be expected to reach an accurate conclusion when you do not have all the necessary data.” Now, John’s face reflects a rare sentiment – one that Sherlock often tries to find ways to induce, but often fails, because he finds it exceedingly difficult to deny his nature. He sees in his friend the thought that, ‘Sherlock has done something unexpectedly nice,’ and takes that as encouragement to continue, intruding into John’s personal space – although, can it truly be an intrusion, considering how clearly he is welcomed? Oh, perhaps the invitation would not be so obvious to anyone else, but he divines it from the softening of John’s eyes, the slight lessening of tension in his shoulders, the way that his friend makes no effort to restore socially accepted boundaries between them. Sherlock trails his hands down John’s arms, still strong from his time serving his country, and the hours spent in the gym, and rests them at last against the nearly identical pulse points. “You are never useless to me. You are loyal, you are trustworthy, you are determined. You share a thrill for danger that I had not previously believed I would ever encounter in another person. You help me to see when I do things that are not-good,” in spite of the seriousness of their discussion, they both smile a little wryly at this. “You always strive to see the best in me. You constantly remind me that I am, in fact, human, with all the foibles and failings that implies. You, John Watson, are the very best parts of who I am.”

The pulse beneath his fingers steadily increases throughout his declaration, and Sherlock thinks that there might be some merit in elucidating on the matter of his emotions, at least so far as this man is concerned. “Well, that’s,” John stops, chuckling and shaking his head from side to side, “you know, most people just say, ‘I love you.’”

“John,” Sherlock breathes lowly, “when have I ever claimed to be, ‘most people?’” and then he leans in and lowers his head, allowing John to reaffirm his humanity in yet another way.

 


End file.
